A Shout in the Silence
by abitheimpala
Summary: I've always been pissed off by that scene at the end of Deathly Hallows part 2 when Harry is rallying people to fight and the entire Slytherin house is sent to the dungeon, while everyone else cheers. Because no one speaks out for Slytherin. No-one takes a stand and says 'Hey McGonagall, how about you put your bloody prejudice aside and just let us help.' But what if someone did?
1. The Silence

**From the point of view of a Slytherin girl, who is an OC because there aren't really that many Slytherins mentioned in Harry Potter. This story simply gives a different perspective on the battle; one that Harry certainly couldn't have provided. Sooo yeah …. :P**

Rose glanced around, her eyes wide. All the other students looked as though they were thinking the same thing that was running through her mind.

Voldemort was here.

He was here and they were all going to suffer.

Her eyes darted side to side as everyone took a step back from Harry Potter, as if being in his presence would somehow make them more of a target. All heads were turned towards him, watching, wondering at what he could possibly have planned to stop this massacre.

Suddenly, a voice broke the silence, high and harsh.

'What are you waiting for? Someone grab him!'

It was Pansy.

Rose sighed. She had never liked that girl much – she'd always been rather gutless.

Not that she was the only one thinking that.

It was, of course, the obvious solution. The life of one boy, or the life of many. Most people would choose the death of a stranger, albeit a famous one, over the death of those they loved.

And that was the choice that they were being presented with here.

But why oh why did Pansy have to be the first to say anything. As if their house didn't have a bad enough reputation already, let's add 'cowards' to the list of labels we had already been laden with.

Accusing eyes had turned our way, the whispers growing. We knew what they were saying. That we were traitors, elitists, that we couldn't be trusted. Many of us had family among Voldemort's followers – what was to say that we wouldn't turn on our fellow students in the midst of the battle? How many of us were _already_ Death Eaters? Surely the majority, as Slytherin was, after all, the 'evil' house.

Ginny stepped forward, then hurried over to Harry, standing in front of him as though she could shield him from thoughts and words. She was quickly followed by the rest of Dumbledore's Army, who crowded around.

Funny thing, the fact that not a single Slytherin had been invited to join _that_ certain clique. In the tight knot, red, yellow and blue hooded robes were all visible. But there was not a single glimpse of emerald green.

Which made it obvious, really, who they were going to turn on first. Who better to take out your fear on than the house which had been continually scorned, ostracised to the point where to talk to them was to align yourself with the Dark Lord. It hadn't always been this bad, though before the rise of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named there had still been a certain amount of suspicion cast on Slytherin house. We were often seen as cowards, as one of the house traits was 'foresight,' and those with prudence don't usually wish to plunge headfirst into battles they know cannot be won. Astuteness, ambition, cunning – all traits which can make a great leader. Unfortunately, they sometimes gave a taste of power that was over too soon … which could lead to the need for more.

Originally, this was ignored, to a degree, as Slytherin wasn't the only house to have turned out a few Dark Wizards, and it had certainly created some who could more than rival the darkness for the force of their light – Merlin, one of the greatest wizards of all time, being among them.

But it had been Slytherin house that had given birth to Tom Riddle. And while he may have entered into any house and left the same, having been damaged beyond repair by his past, the sorting hat had chosen Slytherin.

And so began the fall into disgrace.

It was easier for Riddle to coax those from his own house, his friends, into joining him, and he had been a charismatic boy, his friends many. Several came to his side, and the other houses turned on those who were left behind. Hogwarts was meant to be the seven most important years of your life – imagine how many students felt, finally sorted into their house, ready for the excitement that awaited them during their years of schooling.

Only to find out that you were in the 'bad' house, and, by extension, were 'bad' yourself. All the other houses hang out with everyone except for you. No-one cheers for your Quidditch team. You grow up distrusted by your students and teachers alike – they whisper at glance at you, wondering who'll be the next to turn out like Voldemort.

Now imagine that someone comes along and tells you that you're not worthless, you're not 'bad.' That you could be part of a family of people who know what you've spent your entire life feeling, and who will help you right the wrongs which have been done to you. For the first time you feel wanted, instead of like an outcast. Some of your friends are telling you how great it is – how it's everything they wanted from Hogwarts, how everyone, even you, is needed.

Becoming a Death Eater seems like a much better deal from this end of the spectrum.

And so become one many did. There was some from other houses as well, usually those who weren't as popular, as brave, as smart, those who were looked down on. But they were brushed over, hidden in the course of history.

And so Slytherin house became what it is today. The house of the outcasts. So closely affiliated with the Dark Lord that to be sorted into it was considered almost as serious as swearing allegiance to He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named.

And so they turned upon us.

Who knows what chaos could have erupted, had it not been for Argus Filch's obsessional rule-keeping.

'Students! Students out of bed! Students in the corridors!' he hurried into the Great Hall, Mrs Norris present as ever. He stopped dead as he saw the scene laid before him, the entire Hogwarts population as it now stood, gathered in front of McGonagall. Confused, he looked to her for support.

She sighed. 'They are supposed to be out of bed, you blithering idiot.'

For a moment there was silence. Filch looked as though he were attempting to process this pivotal piece of information.

'Oh.' was his only response. 'Sorry Ma'am.'

Professor McGonagall harried down the steps, skirts held in her hands.

'As it happens, Mr Filch, your arrival is most opportune. If you would, I would like you please to lead Miss Parkinson and the rest of Slytherin house from the hall.'

There were visible signs of deflation from my house mates. Shoulders slumping, heads lowered. It had finally been voiced. The mistrust that had haunted us for so long.

There was no going back now.

The other houses were nudging one another, whispering. Most likely saying that we'd got what was coming to us. Mr Filch, however, looked somewhat confused.

'Exactly where is it that I'll be leadin' them too ma'am?'

'The Dungeons would do.'

McGonagall spoke with a finality that could not be argued with. We were the enemy now, and would be treated as such.

Slowly, but quickly growing, a cheer started up among the other students. The sounds of clapping and cheers as their fellow school students were accused of being traitors.

Filch did as he was told, shepherding us into a line. 'Alright, come on, no dawdling.' he called.

I stood still as my friends streamed around me, moving at his orders.

No. This was not right. They could not just assume that we were all evil. They could not be allowed to get away with this sort of prejudiced thinking. Slytherin house would never recover from this; we would always be remembered as the cowards who didn't fight Voldemort. And no-one else would remember the reason why we were unable to.

'No.' I said quietly, gazing down at my shoes. Then I raised my chin defiantly, raising my voice along with it.

'No!'


	2. A Shout

Yeah, so ... second chapter! Whoo! Side Note: I'll probably be putting up a chapter every 1 - 2 weeks. I'm working on other junk as well, so it'll probs differ. Yeah.

Last time on 'A Shout in the Silence':

**'No.' I said quietly, gazing down at my shoes. Then I raised my chin defiantly, raising my voice along with it.**

**'No!'**

Instantly, all occupants of the hall turned towards me. I spun and stormed up the steps to the raised dais at the front of the hall.

'This is not right!' I cried. 'Don't you see? We're turning on one another, just as Voldemort wants!'

There was an intake of breath and a smatter of voices at my use of his name. Several murderous glances were turned my way.

'All of you, listen to me! This school had four founders, not three. This is not what those four founders intended to happen!'

I turned towards Harry Potter and the other members of the DA who were crowded around him.

'You. Harry Potter. You know just how deadly Voldemort is, you've fought him. Do we not need all the strength that we can get?'

He gazed at me with steely resolve, but then he nodded, only slightly, but enough to spur me on.

'Ravenclaw-' I turned towards them. 'Your house has the trait of intelligence. Does that intelligence not tell you that it's wrong to persecute many for the failures of a few? Can't you see the futility of your prejudice, and how it may cost us many lives?'

A few of them shuffled awkwardly, and most averted their eyes. But I was already turning to their neighbours.

'Hufflepuff! Your house is one of compassion. Isn't it against all of your instincts to send children into battle against their fathers, their mothers, their siblings? Would you be so quick to turn upon your own family?'

There was complete silence now, falling over the hall like a blanket, muffling all noises.

'Finally …. Gryffindor. Our houses have been enemies for centuries, for so long that nowdays no one can even remember why. Your house bears the trait of courage – isn't it enough to have the courage to stand up for what you believe, no matter who stands against you?'

'So I beseech you. Let those of us who wish to help you to do so, but don't hold it against those who don't. Put in their place, would you truly be willing to fight your own family?'

There was quiet in the Great Hall. I knew that the person who made the first move would have the power. If it was to scorn us, the rest would follow. But if not … who knew what could happen.

To my surprise, it was one of Harry's inner circle who was the first to move. Stepping from among the rest of Dumbledore's Army, she trod quietly up the stairs until she stood next to me, looking over the assembled students. She was influential at Hogwarts, and I knew that what she said next would determine our fates.

'I say that Slytherin House should fight alongside us.'

Cue instant chaos. The Slytherin's were cheering, and a few students from other houses were nodding; I even saw a Hufflepuff pat one of us on the back. Others were clearly against it, yelling accusingly and sending murderous stares at anyone who dared challenge them.

I turned towards Luna and smiled. 'Thanks for that …. It-it means more than you know.'

She returned the smile. 'It's okay, you did most of the work. I just agreed with you.'

I raised an eyebrow. 'And you know as well as I do that if you had said the opposite that they all would have agreed with you. The other students look up to the DA, worship them almost. If you're willing to fight with us, the majority will follow. I'm not sure how many of your friends agree though.'

I nodded towards where Harry, Hermione and Ron were whispering, heads together. Ron and Harry looked rather put out by the whole ordeal, while Hermione was simply blank-faced. Luna glanced over at them and shrugged.

'They'll come around. Harry knows how much help he'll need if he wants to fight You-Know-Who, even from Slytherin house. Harry is the sort of human whose capacity for love is larger than his capacity to hate. He'll accept your assistance, if only to keep his friends safe.'

As she spoke this last line, Harry himself strode forward. He made his way up the stairs to stand on my other side. Instantly, a hush fell over the room. No one had actually specified him as the leader; in fact, if we were being logical about this, McGonagall should have been in charge.

But there was something about Harry Potter that made people believe in him.

As he stood next to me I couldn't help but glance his way. His lightning scar was stark against his pale skin, and I was filled with a sort of awe at being so close to a boy who I had spent my entire childhood being told stories about.

He cleared his throat and gazed out at the assembled students.

'Slytherin house will fight with us.'


	3. The Scream

Last Time ...

He** cleared his throat and gazed out at the assembled students.**

** 'Slytherin house will fight with us.'**

That was then, this is now:

I breathed out in relief. I had hoped that was what he would say, and after Luna had backed us up it had seemed almost certain, but it was a relief that it was final.

Harry turned to me, and I was struck by the intensity of his eyes, as all the while, that lightning-bolt scar blazed against his forehead, drawing the eyes in the room towards us.

'You **will **be held responsible for any Slytherins who harm another Hogwarts student. And you will be responsible for their deaths, just as I am responsible for my house, and Luna for hers,' here Luna nodded, looking serious. 'If I discover that one of you has betrayed us and caused the death of any other student, it will be on your head; you will be the one who takes their punishment. I hope you are truly as sure of your housemates as you make out, as I hear that the death toll in Azkabhan lately has been rather high. Remember that as you fight.'

He turned sharply and strode off, back to his expectant followers. Luna took my hand gently.

'Don't mind him. This probably isn't easy for him; what with He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named and Snape both coming from Slytherin, I'm not sure he'll ever be able to truly accept you. Don't take it personally though.'

I smiled thankfully at her.

'I'll try not to. Thank you for your help, but I best get back to my house now. They'll be wondering what's going on.'

She nodded and followed Harry's path. I, however, took a different one, till I stood at the head of Slytherin house. A hush fell over them as they looked up at me expectantly, waiting for all of this to be explained. I was suddenly struck with a bout of nervousness. I couldn't talk to all these people! I couldn't tell them what to do! I was only a fifth year, for heaven's sake. This should be the job of one of the prefects!

I almost laughed at myself, though it wouldn't really have been situation appropriate. I could talk to two of the most famous people in the school without batting an eyelid, and yet I couldn't stand in front of the people I had grown up with and speak.

Perhaps it was because with Harry and Luna I knew that they were already judging me, had spent their whole life judging me. Whereas the people in this house were those whose opinions weighed heavily upon my decision making, and I was unsure of how to begin. I cleared my throat as I gazed nervously down at them.

'Uh- hello Slytherin house. Yeah, we're fighting … as you already know from what Harry Potter just said … um I hope that's all right with you, but if you don't, which I understand, because, ah, I know that some people have parents, and, um, siblings who might fight for Voldemort, then we won't think any less of you. Just – just find somewhere safe until the fighting is over … yeah …'

Not exactly a rousing speech, but it seemed to be all that was needed. Slytherin house began to cheer, slapping one another on the backs and laughing. A few people came up to me and shook my hand, saying things along the line of 'Well done,' and 'Thank you so much for this, it means a lot.'

It was all sort of overwhelming.

The sense of friendly camaraderie was instantaneously shattered by a bolt of red light that shot through the already broken window and hit a Hufflepuff girl in the chest. As she fell to the ground, screaming and writhing in pain, more spells began to fly at us from every angle.

McGonagall instantly became a flurry of motion, urging students into hallways, yelling orders at the teachers. The other houses began to move, but Slytherin was still milling around aimlessly until I realised that _I _was meant to direct them. Swiftly, I ran for the doorway into the more enclosed corridors, yelling for everyone to follow me. At the doorway I paused, waiting until the last person was through.

In the hallway it was chaos. We were safe from the spells in here, but the noises still echoed throughout the building, as the houses cowered together. I turned to the assembled Slytherins.

'Those of you that don't wish to fight, go now! The rest of you, stay together and make sure no one gets hurt. I need to go check where we're defending, I'll be back with instructions in a minute!'

I dashed off to where I could see the slightly-set-apart clump that was Dumbledore's Army, running up to the first person I saw, who just happened to be Neville, I grabbed his arm. He turned to me, startled, and I rapid-fire shot my questions at him.

'Where are we defending? Are we working with any teachers? What do we do if our ranks are broken through? Is there a signal we can send? Do you know what exactly we're up against? Is there any specific strategies we can use?'

He looked slightly stunned.

'Uh, what were those questions again?' he asked.

I repeated them, slower this time, and he gave me my answers.

'Slytherin will be defending the back of the castle. If your ranks are broken through send a green flare up into the sky. We're up against He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. Also dementors and werewolves. Try to have small groups, with at least one person in the group knowing the patronus spell. That's … that's it, I think.'

'Thank you.' I told him, patting his arm and running back to where my house waited.


	4. A Boy

**Sorry everyone! It's been longer than usual this time *apologetic face* I have been kind of stuck on it, because I know what I want to happen but I'm not quite sure how to get up to it … But in this chapter there's ROMANCE, which makes it all better, and I apologise to those people who don't agree with that statement, but this chapter is longer than usual, so that can console you :D**

**I hope you enjoy it!**

Everyone was uneasy, fidgeting and muttering to one another. The army that waited on our front door step (rather literally) had paused for the time being, obviously realising that we had moved to a more defendable position. The silence was almost worse than the screaming; this stiflingly eerie feeling of a horror yet to come. The leaders – I suppose that's what we were – had taken advantage of the lull to explain what was going on. I looked out over my house. We were a significantly smaller group than the other houses; most of the younger students had opted against fighting, and some of the older ones who either had family members fighting on the opposing side or who just didn't participate. I was sure that some members of the other houses also would have left, but unfortunately for them they hadn't been given that chance.

I raised my voice to get the attention of those assembled before me and began to speak.

'Everyone, we're going to split up into smaller groups, about six or seven to a group – make sure at least one person knows the patronus spell, and try to have the younger ones paired with an older student. We'll be defending the back of the castle; there's going to be dementors, werewolves, deatheaters and god knows what else coming for us, so for heaven's sake, if you're not prepared for that, take advantage of the fact that we've been given a leave pass and go sit it out in a quiet corner. Don't go needlessly being a hero – It's better to be a live coward then a dead hero. Any questions or comments?'

A hand shot up towards the back and I recognised a boy in the same year as I was.

'Yes?' I said, motioning for him to speak.

'Is the reason that we're defending the back of the castle because they don't trust us and they think it's less likely for anyone to attack?'

I had considered this fact, and nodded my agreement. 'Most likely. Just take it positively – It means we might be less likely to die. But if you are set on being a hero, just hold out hope that the frontal attack is a decoy and they're going to come and kill all of us. Any other questions?'

I was met with a crowd of wide eyes. I knew I was being somewhat upfront about everything, but I wanted everyone going into this to know full well what they were getting themselves into.

We could die.

_I _could die.

I had known that fact when I first argued Slytherin's right to fight, but I wasn't sure that everyone else did. To them a battle was glorious, something involving glory, heroism, and defeat of evil.

I knew better.

Memories flashed through my mind, ghost images of my mother, my father, covered in scratches and blood, tears streaming down my mother's face, of my brother, only seventeen at the time, writhing on the ground in pain.

No, battle was not something worth celebrating.

I pulled down a block against my memories. Now was not the time – I needed to have all my wits about me if I wished to survive.

'Alright everyone, find your groups. Remember what I said – at least six or seven, one person who knows the patronus spell and older students with younger. Report to me or one of the house prefects if you can't find a group. Once everything is organised, we'll head towards our defensive positions. Be quick! No time to waste!'

I watched as everyone scurried to find groups, a quiet sense of urgency about the affair. I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see the boy who had spoken out before.

'Hey.' he said, grinning. He was tall with black wavy hair, pale skin and dark green eyes, Practically the Slytherin poster boy. Handsome too.

'I'm William, but you can call be me Will. You're Rose, right? You're in some of my classes.'

'Yes …' I replied, wondering what he wanted.

'I was just going to ask if we could be in the same group. That way, you can protect me.' he grinned, one side of his mouth rising more than the other. I could help but smile back at him.

'If you can find us another five group members, then yes, you can have the honour of being in my group.'

He nodded and stepped back, as a small red-headed girl moved forward to take his place. I glanced back up at him as she started talking, only to find that he was still watching me, a thoughtful grin plastered across his face.

I turned back to the subject at hand, namely the young girl in front of me. I guessed that she was most likely a first year, only 11 years old; not the sort of kid that should be fighting. My fears were confirmed when she opened her mouth.

'I'm Jenna – I'm a first year. I don't have a group, because none of my friends wanted to fight. Can I be with you?'

She was adorable, and I didn't want her to die.

I didn't want anyone to die.

I looked seriously down at her. 'Now, Jenna, are you sure you want to fight? It's going to be dangerous –'

'Oh, don't talk to me like I'm three years old.' she snapped. 'Deatheaters killed my parents. I want to avenge them. I don't care if I die – at least then I can be with them in heaven.'

She was feisty, and brave. The sort of girl that you wanted to show off to the Gryffindors, point out to them that they were'nt the only ones capable of greatness.

I smiled down at her.

'Well, if you put it that way, I would be honoured to have you as part of my group. So far we have one other member –' I looked up for William, only to see him standing a few metres away, organising a small clump of people. I turned back to Jenna. 'It appears our group has rapidly expanded since I last spoke to it. Let's get over there and sort everything out.'

Together, we made our way between the small clumps of people that had formed, overto where was now 'our' group stood.

'That was fast work.' I said as I stepped up next to William.

'Well, what can I say.' He replied. 'I guess everyone just wants to be in a group with the new face of Slytherin. You're like a good luck charm.'

I managed to crack a smile. 'Well that's enough time for joking. We need to sort out our positions.'

'Rightio.' He replied. 'I'll just have everyone introduce themselves first.' He turned back towards our entourage. 'Everyone, hi. I'm Will, this is Rose, who you now have all obviously seen but probably don't know. Would everyone else please introduce themselves?'

Jenna stepped forward first. 'I'm Jenna.' she said determinedly. She was followed by a heavyset blond boy, probably a third year. 'My name's Timothy.' After him came a petite brown-aired girl, who looked as though she might blow away in a strong gust of wind, who said her name was Sophie, followed by a pair of dark haired twins, named Ben and Peter.

I looked out over them.

Voldemort, come and get us. You ain't got nothing on this.


	5. A Curse

**Woo! Yeah! Super late chapter (again)**

**I'm sorry! I'm a terrible human being ...**

I snapped myself out of my happy lightly fuzzy feeling place in order to get back down to business.

'Alright.' I told my group. 'We'll concentrate on defending the more eastern side of the back of the building. Watch out for windows specially, as that's where the attacks are most likely to come from, because that's the weakest part of the castle. We probably won't have that much action, as the majority of the attack will be located at the front of the building, but stay alert. Make sure you can see everyone in the group at all times. If someone goes missing … yell or something. I don't know. Just try and get someone's attention; preferably without getting us all killed.'

They all nodded in understanding, and I took a deep breath and then turned towards the back of the school and began the trek, the rest of Slytherin following suit.

I hear a cry of 'Good luck! We'll try to hold the front!' behind me, and turned to see Luna waving, as the other members of Dumbledore's Army who stood around her looked coolly after me. I raised a hand in answer, and inclined my head towards her. Turning back, I upped the pace a bit. All the other houses were moving off to their respective defensive positions, and the tension in the room weighed visibly on each student's shoulders. It was the fear of what might happen next, where they would strike. It was almost worse than the fighting itself.

When we reached the far end of the building, I came to a halt and spun on my heel.

'Okay! Spread out – watch for the windows. Under no circumstances do you leave your group. Make sure that the entire length of the building is defended, and get their quickly . Good luck!'

And that was it. Everyone split off into their groups, running off in opposite direction, down hallways and through classrooms, in order to defend the school. I looked about for my group and saw William waving me over from near a window.

'Over here!' he called quietly. 'We decided that we best stay here; someone has too.'

I nodded my consent and hurried over to join them. We positioned ourselves so that we could see the window – behind pillars, crouched under desks, anywhere defensible.

And then we waited.

And waited some more.

Finally, one of the twins, I think it was Peter, moved.

'Why isn't anything happening?' he asked softly. I shrugged in reply. To be honest, it was a bit off putting. I had been all ready for the battle, and now nothing was happening. I had to work to keep myself alert, remind myself that this could instantly turn into a battle.

'Maybe they're all out the front fighting the Gryffindors.' Said Jenna quietly. Timothy, however, shook his head.

'No, we'd hear something. It's the sort of thing that's a bit hard to miss.'

William rolled his eyes. 'Maybe it's not even going to happen.' he grumbled. He was crouched beneath the window sill, and he turned and quickly peeked outside … only to have the glass in front of him explode into tiny pieces. He fell backwards, and I only had enough time to get a glimpse of his blood-stained face before a dark swirl of smoke shot through the window and hit the ground. It burst, sending flurries of darkness dancing around the room, in their place leaving a tall, swarthy man. His hair was cropped close to his skull and his left eye looked as though it had been gouged out by some sort of beast, leaving an empty, staring socket and a face horrifically marred by scars.

'Incendio!' he yelled, sending a bolt of fire streaming towards the pillar where Rose had hidden. She dived out of the way just in time, leaving the flame to explode against the rock, setting alight a tapestry that hung above. The man raised his arm once more, but was jerked to the side as his leg was pulled out from beneath him. Will moved quickly, rolling out of the way as the man fell, and waving his wand.

'Expelliarmus!' he cried, sending the man's wand clattering across the ground. Turning quickly, he spotted me and ran to my side. 'What do we do with him now?' he asked. I regarded him carefully. There was many small rivulets of blood running down his face, and I could see crystal-like shards of glass still embedded in his face. He knew what had to happen. He just didn't want to be the one who voiced it.

I sighed. 'We can't keep him immobile forever. He'll get out soon enough. He has to die.'

Saying that, I turned quickly. 'Avada Kedavra!' I shouted, sending a stream of light towards to motionless man. He twitched, then stilled. I turned back to Will, but stopped as I heard the laughter.

He was still alive.

'Oh little girl … you don't understand, do you? None of you do. It's not enough just to _say_ the words. You have to really _mean_ them. But you don't. You don't want me to die; you don't want to be the one who kills me. And because of that _you_ will die. You, your little friends, your family, you will all fall before the power of Voldemort!' After saying this, he suddenly moved, grabbing his wand from where it lay. He raised it, and opened his mouth, as from behind me came a yell of 'Avada Kedavra!' The man fell to the floor, and there he stayed.

I turned to see Will standing behind me, his hand shaking, his wand held aloft.

'It was you of him, you know? And … and I wasn't going to let you die.'


	6. A Battle

**I'm not really sure if I'm going to be able to top the dramatic, rather cliché, ending that I threw out last chapter. So please don't expect much :)**

**Also to the people who have been sending me abusive PM's and reviews about this story – firstly, I'm not ****_forcing _****you to read anything I write. You all have free will and junk, so if this is so bloody terrible, just don't look at it. Secondly, no I do not have a Slytherin superiority complex. I have never said anything negative about any of the other houses. The closest I have gotten to that is by saying that Slytherin house is judged as the 'evil' house, which may not be true for everyone in the Potterverse, but is for some people. Obviously, ****_I _****prefer Slytherin over the other houses, but that's just house solidarity and all that junk. I'm sorry if for some reason, you thought this story was house-hating on everyone else, that was definitely not my intention, so perhaps you shouldn't get so easily offended. I'm fine with constructive criticism, it's just when people leave the constructive part out that I go hulk-rage.**

**Well, sorry for that rant. For all you lovely people who actually leave nice reviews, thank you very much. I'm not usually this abusive, but I have my moments :/ **

**So, um, *awkward grin* on that happy note, let's get started again!**

I gazed at him, not sure whether to be impressed or horrified. I didn't get long to make up my mind, as the castle exploded into motion once more. A wave of death-eaters rapidly appeared from the clouds of smoke that burst through the castle windows, shouting curses. A woman appeared beside me, cackling as she raised her wand.

'Expelliarmus!' I cried, still not prepared to try any of the three unforgivable curses, especially if they weren't going to work.

Her wand spun out of her hand and was crushed as a stout man toppled over, his entire body stiff as the result of a Petrificus charm. I darted out of his way and almost ran into Peter, who steadied me before spinning and rattling off a string of curses in the direction of a raven-haired Death Eater whose mask had been blown apart. I raised my own wand to join in the barrage of spells, until she disappeared in a dark cloud of smoke, reforming in a corner further away.

My attention was quickly diverted by a man appearing next to me, shouting 'Reducto!' as he shot a bolt of green light in my direction. I managed to dive out of the way fast enough to avoid the majority of the damage, but the tail-end of the spell still managed to catch me, and I groaned as I felt a great weight smash into the side of my head.

I fell to the floor, curling up into a ball. I knew that I needed to get back up, that I was far too vulnerable down here on the ground, but when I tried to rise, my vision began to cloud with darkness and a ringing started in my ears.

I fell back down to my knees, dry retching. The pressure in my head felt as though it was crushing my skull. I saw the dark ends of a robe moving towards me, and heard the start of a curse.

'Cru-'

He was cut of abruptly by a spell from behind me.

'Rictumsempra!'

A tickling curse – certainly one of the easiest spells, but still effective. The man doubled over, laughing, as I felt a pair of thin arms wrap over my shoulders.

'There, there. You'll be all right. It's okay now.'

From the corner of my vision, I saw the man straightening up.

'Jenna –Jenna look out …' I managed to croak. Her head whipped up, and her eyes widened, just in time to see the man's wand come down, completing the pattern for the killing curse. She gasped, and curled her body over mine, protecting me, as the deadly streak of light flew ever closer. I pushed her roughly, throwing her to the side, closing my eyes in anticipation of the impact.

It never came.

I looked up just in time to see the spell deflected by a shimmering shield, straight back into the chest of the man who cast it. Sophie moved from her place behind me and nodded once, before whirling back into the midst of the fighting.

Watching her, I knew that I needed to start taking a bigger part in this battle. So far, all I had done was be helpless, while other people wasted their time saving me. _I _was the one who spoken up and put them all in danger. If anyone was going to foolishly play the role of hero, it should be me.

With that in mind, I rose shakily to my feet. I clutched at a pillar to steady myself, then raised my hand to the side of my head. When I pulled it a way, it was wet with blood.

I hitched up my robes and grabbed the bottom hem. Tearing furiously, I managed to rip off a 3 inch piece. Clumsily wrapping it around my head, I secured it the best that i could, forming a makeshift bandage that curled under my hair and across one ear.

Now, I was ready. I spun quickly, checking for everyone in my group. Will standing in a corner, shouting curses at any death eater who came near him – one. The twins side by side against a pillar – two and three. Sophie peered out from behind the column across from them, occasionally sending bolts of light from her wand – that made four. And there was Timothy, crouched next to the window, hitting the enemy with spells as soon as they came streaming in – five.

Jenna was missing.

I looked around frantically, searching for any sign of that red shock of hair.

There was none.

I began to make my way towards Will with steely determination, spitting out spells at any one who dared come near me. I was only steps from him when a terrified scream rose above the din.

_Jenna._

I was sure of it.

The entirety of the battle seemed to fade around me. The sounds of conflict hushed and the shapes became shadows as I made my way towards that terrible screaming that seemed to go on and on and on.

I was running now, rounding a corner, drawing away from the larger skirmish near the entrances and into dark hallways and little used rooms, removed from the majority of the action.

I burst into a classroom, confronted with the sight of a dark shadow looming over the source of the scream. I raised my wand and shouted, unsure of the words that left my mouth. All I knew was that the screaming had to stop. It _had _to.

The figure collapsed, and I pushed past it, falling to my knees.

Jenna lay on the ground, whimpering, surrounded by a pool of her own blood. Long, deep cuts ran the length of her body, passing down her arms and over her chest, staining her white shirt red.


	7. Foolishness

**A/N**

**I realised that I haven't actually done a disclaimer for this yet, which apparently I need to do. So yeah, I don't own Harry Potter. No siree I do not. However, I ****_do _****own the majority of these characters (because I made them, as I am a terrible person who writes far too many OC's) but the peeps in the original HP series are not mine, not even a little bit.**

**So yeah, now that we've got that over and done with, let's return to the angst-filled, somewhat-terribly-clichéd world of Rose and her friends so that I can violently destroy my characters and my feels.**

**I think I get more into this story than the majority of youse reading it, perhaps due to the fact I have no idea where I am going with this. I mean, even ****_I_**** am unaware wether Jenna is dead or not at this point in time.**

**Perhaps this is not the best way to write a story.**

**Awkies.**

** Last week's super-happy ending for those of you who don't remember what the hell happened (I think my attitude about this issue is far too cavalier for the content of this story): **

**Jenna lay on the ground, whimpering, surrounded by a pool of her own blood. Long, deep cuts ran the length of her body, passing down her arms and over her chest, staining her white shirt red.**

I dropped to my knees in front of her, covering my mouth with my hands in an attempt to contain my sobs.

'Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god. It'll be okay – everything, everything will be fine.'

But as I surveyed her broken form, her shredded shirt, and her closed eyes couldn't help but realise that no, everything was not going to be alright.

I roughly raked my fingers through my hair, clutching it as though it was the only thing tethering me to reality. My other hand hovered above her splayed arm, knowing I needed to help somehow, but uncertain how to do so. There was just so much blood. I couldn't tell where one cut ended and another began, they all just ran together in a gruesome artwork of red and white. I shakily reached for her wrist, feeling for a pulse. My fingers slipped along the still –warm blood as I searched for that dull throb, that sign that there was still a chance for her.

For a few hopeless seconds, nothing. But then I felt it, a slow, sluggish beat, growing dangerously dim. But still – it was there.

Kneeling by her side, hands shaking as I scrabbled blindly for my wand on the ground next to me, unable to take my eyes off her, as if doing so would hasten her death. When I found it I gripped it tightly and raised it over her body. I hardly recognised my own hands, dripping with red as they were. It was only then that I realised I had no idea how to help her. We learnt hardly any healing spells; the majority of what we did was attack or defence related. Healing magic was highly advanced, and anyway, we usually had Madame Pomfrey to fix us up.

That just meant that right now, my friend was dying and there was almost nothing I could do to help her.

I don't know when the tears had started, but they were flowing freely now, running down my face and onto Jenna's arm, washing away the blood to leave pale pink streaks.

I couldn't stop the memories of another time, another place, when I had been just as helpless as I was now, as nine-year-old me knelt beside the motionless body of my brother. I had screamed at my mother and father to do something, to help him, as I clutched at his shoulders. They had only stood, eyes downcast, knowing they could help him and yet unwilling to do so.

Because of me.

I had held him until he died, until his last, shuddering breath left his body, crying into his chest.

The person I loved the most in the world died in my arms because I wasn't strong enough to help him. And even after five years at Hogwarts, here I was in the exact same situation.

I could almost imagine Jenna as me, watching on as her parents died, wanting to become stronger, wanting to avenge them. And yet now she was the one lying on the ground as her life-blood bled out of her.

I couldn't let this happen. I couldn't.

Racking my brain I thought through all the spells I had ever learnt, all the ones I had even heard. Anapneo? Ferula? No! Shivers, why was this so hard? The only spells I could think of were ones that wouldn't help at all in this situation.

Oh god. Jenna was going to die and it was going to be my fault.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I thought back through my visits to Madame Pomfrey. There had been one time, when I had accidentally fallen off my broomstick and cut my knee open on a rock. I remembered that when she healed it I felt my knee go suddenly hot then very cold, as though the skin was knitting itself together. What spell had she used? Did it start with H? Or was it R? I couldn't remember! Every second I took, it was as though I could feel Jenna's life draining from her. What was it?

I covered my face with my hands and began to sob even harder. It was no use. Even if I could remember the incantation, I didn't know how to cast it – I hadn't even been looking at her as she did so, too intently focused on the trail of blood sluggishly running along my knee.

I was useless. I couldn't help my brother, and now I couldn't help this little girl who lay in front of me. Why had I spoken up? Why had I said anything at all? If I had just let McGonagall order us all down to the dungeons, Jenna would be fine.

She was dying and it was my fault.

I grasped her hand between mine, shoulders shaking and tears dripping over the edge of my cheeks to splatter upon her motionless body. I watched as the shallow rise and fall of her chest began to lessen, as her already-limp hand slipped from my grasp, as death stole her away from her.

And I screamed.

Somewhere in the back of my mind there was a voice, telling me that I needed to be quiet, that I couldn't attract attention. But something inside of me had broken, a fragile piece of my heart that had shattered when my brother had died and that I had only just managed to put back together. Was that was had really driven me to fight so desperately for Slytherin's right to join the battle? Was this all simply to prove to myself that I had gotten stronger, that I could protect what I loved?

If it was, then I had dearly payed the price for my foolishness, over and over and over again.


	8. A Body

**A/N**

**Yeah it has taken me a very long time to update, because after last week's chapter I sunk into a deep hole of depression, wondering to myself 'How on earth I could kill Jenna?' and 'Why am I such a terrible excuse for a human being?' and also 'How on ****_earth_**** am I going to resolve this?'**

**So in this chapter I attempt to revive faith in my humanity (no just kidding there's even more dead people in this one) and rescue my storyline from plunging down the mortal coil at 100 kilometres an hour. There's also a little bit more of a revelation of Rose's past (Has anyone actually figured out her past yet?) so I hope ya'll enjoy that .**

I didn't know how much time passed as I lay there next to Jenna's body, legs clutched to my chest. It was as though time itself had no meaning, as though nothing had any meaning. The first I remember is when I moved, rising shakily to my feet, almost falling in the process, my footsteps as unsteady of those of a new-born child. My breath rasped in my throat, a painful side-effect of screaming, and when I raised my hand to push my hair back I realised my hand and arm was coated in Jenna's rapidly-drying blood.

_Jenna._

Whenever I thought of what had happened, it was though a searing bolt of pain was shot directly from my brain to my heart, paralysing me. I couldn't bring myself to look at the body, as though not acknowledging it would mean it wasn't real.

Stumbling, I began the long trek to the door. I need to find everyone and check that they were okay. I needed to tell them – to tell them about Jenna.

But I couldn't just leave her there.

I knew it was only her body, a shell, nothing more; there was none of her spirit left. But I felt as though I had a duty to it, this one small part of Jenna that hadn't yet left me. I hardly knew her, and in the short minutes I did, I sentenced her to death. The least I could do was give her the same respect as she had given me.

Though it appeared her respect had been grossly misplaced.

I turned back, eyes downcast to my feet. Forcing myself to slowly raise my head I took in her body, the brokenness of it. Her arms splayed on either side, her head falling sidewards, unsupported as it was, and her eyes, half open, staring blankly.

I bit my lip to contain a sob and steeled myself. She deserved this at least.

Dropping to her side, my movements reserved, even as the memory of how I had met her, been saved by her and lost her, all in the space of under an hour, ran through my head.

How could so much change so quickly? It seemed unfair – shouldn't we have time to process these things, deal with them? But instead we were just swept along, as though we were simply debris in a stream, expected to continue living, fighting along so that we weren't pulled under as well.

There was no period of rest, of mourning, unless we ourselves wanted to join the fallen.

Why? What was the point of putting us here if our fate was only to die. There was nothing we could do to stop it – even the strongest of magics had their flaws. We thought ourselves stronger than Muggles, their protectors, but in the end, death still claimed us all.

This was what was going through my mind as I carefully slid my hands under Jenna's body, lifting her gently as her head lolled against my chest. I tried not to look at her, tried not to concentrate on the fact that I was carrying a dead body, as I crossed over to the far end of the classroom. I laid her down gently behind the Professors desk, hidden from sight and harm. I gently lifted her arms and folded them across her chest, hiding the worst of the wounds. I used my fingertips to lower her eyelids

Nothing, however, could be done to hide the fact that she was dead. I had been to funerals before, my brother's foremost among them. My Uncle had allowed me to go up to the coffin to say goodbye to my brother. The walk up to the front was one of the longest of my life. Staring into the coffin, I was certain that if I hadn't personally seen the life leave my brother, I wouldn't believe he was dead. Dressed in dark robes, hands folded across his chest in the position I had mimicked with Jenna, it seemed almost as though he was sleeping. His body was unmarked, his face relaxed. For an instant, I was struck by the fear that perhaps he wasn't dead at all, only sleeping, and now we were going to bury him in the ground, until he woke up, unable to escape, searching for air until he died.

With Jenna, it was impossible that she was anything but.

I gazed at her for a second, sealing into my mind that memor of a girl so full of life, smiling up at me with fierce determination as she told me that Death Eaters had killed her family.

I hoped that whatever happened after death that she was there with them now. Perhaps she couldn't avenge them, but if they were together it would be okay. Perhaps she would even meet my brother.

Turning my back on the body, I made my way unsteadily to the door, using desks to steady myself as I walked away. Eyes fixed on my goal, I didn't see the body until I tripped over it.

A tall man, his hair long and unruly, his eyes opened in shock at the suddenness of his death.

I knew I should feel angry at him for what he had done, but I couldn't bring myself to feel any emotion at all. He had paid his debt; a life for a life.

I was the one whose dues remained unpaid. I had taken his life, yet I was still here. Indirectly, I had also caused Jenna's death and the deaths of any of the others of my house. Harry Potter's words came back to haunt me, _'You will be responsible for their deaths.'_ I had brushed it off at the time as his dislike of me seeping through, but now I felt the weight of that responsibility. I should have listened to him earlier; he knew what it was like to lose friends to a cause that you had initiated.

It was too late to dwell on that now though. I needed to find everyone, to stop any more deaths.

I stepped shakily out into the hall, my steps hastening as I neared the sounds of battle. I burst into a hallway, only to find myself gazing at a sight even more horrific than that of my dead friend.

**A/N **

**Well Rose has kind of turned into an angsty child so I apologise for that. I feel that she is going down the Katniss road of alternating between deep depression and intense anger, but I can't really stop it with this sort of story, I guess.**

**While writing I kinda feel as though she cries too much, but then when I read it back it seems as though she isn't sad enough.**

**This is an issue, I think.**


	9. A Wolf

A wolf was crouched above the body of a student, muzzle stained red with blood. I tried not to look at what remained of the student's face, lest I recognise them. Instead, raising my wand with a shout of 'Avada Kedavra!' I sent a stream of light towards the creature.

It was, however, obviously more prepared and lighter on its feet than the last foe I had faced. Darting out of the way, it turned to me with a snarl, features contorted in anger. Inhumanly fast, it leapt at me. I tried to evade it, but I was too slow, and it knocked me to the ground, sliding a few feet away. Rolling too my knees, I scrabbled for my wand from where I had dropped it. I raised it and cried 'Incendio!'

The sparks that shot from my wand missed the wolf, catching onto the edge of a tapestry and sending it up into flame. The beast had darted to the side, and it crouched towards me now, snarling, it's shadow cast long and black by the light from the flames. It was the hunter – I the prey.

Backing up, I watched it warily as it approached, crouched, and sprang. Lifting my wand with a shout of 'Protego!' I heard a thud as the wolf hit the momentary shield of light and followed it up with 'Expulso!'

The blast of light dispersed into thin air, it's target having disappeared. Warily, I looked around, searching for any sign of my foe.

There was none; it have seemingly disappeared into thin air. Rushing over to the student lolling against the wall, I grabbed their wrist. Looking at them, i was almost certain that they were already dead, but i needed to be completely sure.

There was no pulse.

I couldn't stop myself from looking at the face as I stood back. It was a sixth year. I hadn't ever spoken to him, but I had seen him in the common room a few time, studying. He had a girlfriend, in the same year as him. I wondered what had happened to her; I wouldn't think she would leave him alone in this sort of situation – they'd seemed very close.

I knew I shouldn't have looked at him.

I was rocked suddenly out of my memories as I was hit from the side by an immense blow and thrown to the ground, covering my face with my hands to protect it. I felt the claws of a wolf raking at my arms and foul breath on my face. Gasping, I tried to roll to my left, throwing my arms sidewards in an attempt to separate from the beast, dropping my wand in the process. It moved only slightly, paws moving to pin my shoulders. Wincing, I wondered why I wasn't yet dead. Opening my eyes slightly, I looked up to a scene from my nightmares.

The wolf's face was contorted into a savage snarl, teeth bared and gums pulled back. I grimaced, certain that these would be my last few moments. To my utter surprise the wolf paused and sat back on its haunches, mouth closing and head tilted to the side in an expression that looked almost inquisitive. I frantically scuttled backwards, glancing wildly around for any sign of my wand. I looked over at the wolf. It hadn't moved; it was simply sitting there, surveying me. Catching sight of the battered piece of wood I sought, I pushed myself quickly to might feet and darted over it. Snatching it from the ground, I spun quickly, wand at the ready, to face the wolf.

Only to find that it was no longer there.

In it's place sat a beautiful young woman.

She had skin the colour of a chestnut and an untamed, curly mane of dark hair. He cinnamon eyes stared intently at me as she raised a hand to wipe the blood off her face.

'Rose? Is that you?' she asked.

**Oh look I have updated rather slowly.**

**Admittedly this chapter is also somewhat short, but still, points for trying.**


	10. The Past

**A/N **

**Sorry this is really late, I know I'm rather incredibly spectacularly lazy. In my defence, I am suffering through exam block, but you probably don't want to hear about the many stresses of senior school life when most of you are probably living it. **

**Recap of the overly dramatic ending of last week's chap:**

**I spun quickly, wand at the ready, to face the wolf, only to find that it was no longer there.**

**In it's place sat a beautiful young woman.**

**She had skin the colour of a chestnut and an untamed, curly mane of dark hair. He cinnamon eyes stared intently at me as she raised a hand to wipe the blood off her face.**

** 'Rose? Is that you?' she asked.**

My eyes widened, in surprise and confusion. H-how could this be? This wasn't possible … she was dead! I had seen her die! I backed away, hands held up in front of me as though they could offer protection. Fixed on her as I was, I didn't notice the body at my feet until I stumbled, falling backwards, twisting so that I landed on my shoulder. I looked up, and she was standing over me.

She moved with an inhuman speed, almost gliding, there one second, gone the next. She leant down, dark eyes wide and expression innocent. Reaching a hand out she smiled, and I could almost sense the wolf that lived inside.

A flashback, a memory of another time, another place, another battle, of sorts. An outstretched hand, splattered with blood, descending to brush a strand of hair from my cheek, drawing a sticky trail of blood across my cheekbones.

The blood of my brother, now decorating my cheekbones in a gruesome tattoo.

I jolted back, the memory shocking me into action. The training of my childhood, reacted automatically, and I batted the hand away from my face, rolling swiftly to the side. I raised my wand, with a cry of 'Petrificus Totalus!'

The she-wolf darted, blurring with the speed, darting out of my vision. I spun, searching for any sign of movement. Eyes frantically seeking a glimpse of my opponent, I didn't notice the movement behind me until a hand gripped the underside of my neck, another clenching the top of my head.

'I could break your neck right now.' came the hiss, warm air brushing my ear as I shuddered, half in revulsion, half in fear. Yes, I was afraid. I knew what this woman was capable of, I had seen her in action. There was no shame in being afraid of monsters.

'You can't hurt me.' I whispered, wishing my voice was steadier. 'You know you can't.'

A snarl worked it's way from her mouth, vibrating through my body.

'Yes, to kill you would be to sign my own death warrant. However, there would be little to mourn over the loss of my life. Yes, I enjoy existing, and I would like to continue to do so. But I would just as readily sacrifice my life for yours, and believe me, if you try something like that again, gods help me I will do so. Remember that now.'

She pushed me harshly away, sending me stumbling forward, face blazing red in shame and anger. I glared back at the woman who stood behind me. Her face was peaceful and serene; there was no sign of the darkness hidden below. However, it could surface at any moment; no one knew that better than I did.

'Now, let's talk through this logically. There's no need to fight – I mean, you wouldn't want to hurt your godmother, would you? Your mother would be _so _disappointed if she found out you'd killed her best friend.'

I could barely contain my anger. I was shaking as I tried to contain it, fists clenching and unclenching. Gritting my teeth, I seethed at her.

'I have no connection to you. None! We aren't related by blood, only words. And I'm sure that if I killed you, my mother would _thank _me!'

The woman appeared unaffected, even bored, as she inspected her nails.

'Words are binding, _you_ better than anyone should know that. And how would you have any idea what your mother's wishes are? I feel as though I'm far better disposed to know of her will than _you_ are, little flower.'

I barricaded my mind against the flood of memories that threatened to sweep my feet from under me.

'You don't know my mother better than I do! She's a good woman, she's only doing this to protect me! She has too, she can't help it!'

A sweet, melodious laugh bubbled its way from her mouth and she smiled, a sight which seemed more threatening than her snarl. Taking a step forward, she seemed to blink out of existence, only to reappear at my shoulder, hand cupping the side of my face, tilting my gaze to her.

'Oh little flower, how fiery you have become! Just be careful – fire consumes plant life as easily as any other object. You wouldn't want to end up like your brother. Poor thing. He fought to the end … he really was valiant. I almost felt a glimmer of sadness watching him die, seeing his pain as he writhed on the ground, while your parents stood by and watched, while –'

'Stop! Stop it! You're nothing but a coward; you watched while he died, you didn't do anything! You watched and you _laughed._ We all trusted you! But you didn't care – you were too afraid of what would happen if you didn't obey His orders!' I cried, pushing her away from me, heart beating wildly and breathing heavy.

She fell backwards with a laugh, transforming just before she hit the ground. Her face elongated, hair growing thicker and moving to cover the entirety of her body, even as her legs thickened and eyes sharpened. Barely seconds later, she stood before me in her true form. She snarled, razor sharp teeth glinting in the light.

'You really shouldn't have made me angry, little flower. I did warn you – just remember that as you die. You could have avoided this.'

And saying so, she lunged.

**A/N**

**So, more of Rose's past ... does anyone have any theories yet? Also, fingers crossed, the next chapter will be out in a shorter timespan than time ... one hopes. Please continue to enjoy this story in all it's angst-filled glory!**


	11. A Friend

**A/N **

**Sorry for the wait again. I'm not really a terrible person, I swear.**

**Last Week:**

**'You really shouldn't have made me angry, little flower. I did warn you – just remember that as you die. You could have avoided this.'**

**And she lunged.**

I threw myself to the side, landing on my shoulder and rolling. Springing to my feet, I begun to run, wand clutched in my hand. It seemed the cowards move, but cowards often lived where brave men died – I had seen my godmother in action before, and knew there was no chance of me beating her in a fair fight.

But I couldn't outrun here either.

She was already on my tail, a dark, snarling shadow, drawing closer with each bound. My legs were too short, and I had lost too much blood. She would be upon me in but a few more strides.

Closer, closer, closer. I could almost feel her breath on the back of her neck. Without warning, I darted into an open doorway, slamming it shut. I was just in time; I heard her body thump into the wood as I hurriedly muttered 'Colloportus,' jumping away from the door with a start as the sound of the she-wolf crashing against it came once more.

Frantically, I glanced around, looking for something, anything. The door wouldn't hold together, and then I would be trapped – the only other way out of this room was a hundred foot drop from the windows.

That might be what it came to. I had more chance of surviving the fall than I did of surviving the wolf.

Pulling my wand out of the pocket of my cloak, I rushed over to the heavy oaken desk that sat at the front of the classroom. I cast a hover charm, straining to hold the spell as I felt my dizziness returning. Eyes narrowed and head throbbing, I carefully moved the now-floating desk to the doorway, flipping it upright and sending it settling against the door.

Reaching a hand to steady myself, I shut my eyes momentarily. It seems my head injury had been more serious than I thought – perhaps I had slight concussion, or maybe it was just blood loss. Whatever it was, I was dead if I couldn't cast spells. How else would I defeat the werewolf? Perhaps I could simply hit her repeatedly with a chair until she yielded.

The door shuddered on its hinges again. It was growing weaker and my time was running out. The window was starting to look rather appealing.

I began searching, looking for anything I could possibly use, as the door continued to tremble. From the corner of my eye, I spotted a glint of silver. Turning my head and narrowing my gaze, I zeroed in on the object.

_There._

The coat of arms of some long-forgotten family, complete with real swords.

I grabbed hold of a desk and pushed it against the wall, arms straining with the effort as it scraped along the rough stone floor. I released it when it came into contact with the wall, clambering onto its smooth surface. When I stretched on my toes I could just, almost, reach it …

I jumped, hitting the bottom of the crest with the flat of my hand. The coat of arms jolted and came loose. I pressed myself to the wall as it tumbled past, inches away from the swords. Bounding down next to it, I grabbed the hilts in my hands, wrenching them from their brackets. They were old, and rust covered, but that could be remedied. Drawing my wand once more, I placed one of them on the desk in front of me, throwing the other to the side. I had raised my wand to cast the spell when I was shaken by the sound of splintering wood. Turning with a small cry, I discovered the top hinge had broken from the door. A ferocious snarling and scratching emanated from the other side, and I saw glimpses of a wolf's muzzle darting into the gaps, teeth bared. The table still held her, however.

Desperately, I mumbled 'Scourgify,' followed by an unbreakable charm. The sword gleamed before me, as brilliant as the day it had been made, but the magic was taking its toll. I had never cast so many spells in such a short period of time, and never when I was injured. I didn't know how my longer I could keep this up.

A cracking sound tore through the room, and I whirled to see the door was gone completely, ripped from its place, leaving only the table between me and the beast. I snatched the sword from my table, holding it in my right hand, wand in my left. Struggling to control my breaths, I took a step closer to the door, and another, silently moving to where the she-wolf raged. I was careful to keep to the edge of the room, out of her line of sight. I inched closer, finally stopping a metre to the left of the doorway. Chest heaving and heart beating, I waited. I wanted nothing more than to close my eyes and escape this hell, but I couldn't. One moment of weakness and I was dead.

So, instead, I kept my gaze trained on the rattling table, heavy oak slowly crumbling beneath the wolf's might blows. My hands were clenched so tightly around my weapons I could feel my nails digging into my palm, almost drawing blood.

I counted the thuds.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Si –

The table flew backwards and the wolf exploded into the room, all fury and menace and shadow. I acted instantly, sprinting forward, lunging, sword raising. She had obviously not expected me to come from behind her; she didn't notice me until I was almost upon here. She spun, snarling, just as I struck. I missed, my intended target, her neck, instead connecting with her snout, drawing a bloody gash between her eyes.

I didn't bother to wait for her to reciprocate the favour, instead flinging my body backwards, out of her reach, wand at the ready.

'Diffindo!' I shouted, dashing backwards. She jumped aside with a growl, covering the ground between us in two bounds. I waited until she was almost upon us, then swung my sword upwards, slicing it across her underbelly. I had no time to celebrate though – as I leapt backwards, her paw come out of nowhere, scraping across my face to gouge deep furrows in my cheek. With a cry I stumbled back, feeling the blood begin to run. Fury growing inside me, I hacked again, leaving a shallow graze across her shoulder. She snarled again, jaws darting out to latch onto my tattered cloak. Wrenching her head forwards, she pulled me towards her, feet falling over themselves. I raised my blade, awkwardly turning it upon myself, shearing the fabric in half. Moving swiftly backwards, arms seeking out desks behind me, helping me to avoid them, I watched as she spit out the fabric.

Taking advantage of her momentary distraction, I raised my wand, whispering 'Incarerous.' As she turned back, she was hit by a net, flowing from the end of my wand. I wrapped itself around her, pining her down. The more she struggled, the tighter it got, weaving itself around her legs, under her stomach, across her snout. Eventually, she could struggle not longer, instead reduced to lying on the floor, growls emanating from her throat. Hesitantly, I stepped closer, both wand and sword at the ready.

There was no movement.

I stood over her, looking down at the woman I had once looked up to. I had thought I could not defeat her; I had been wrong. Perhaps I had grown stronger in these years.

Her head was facing away from her, but I could still hear her as she growled.

'Come now little flower, you wouldn't kill your godmother, would you? Think of how upset your mother would be. And you'd be a little unhappy too, wouldn't you little flower? There's no shame in admitting it, you did love me once.'

'But no longer.' i replied, my own voice almost matching hers in wolf-like qualities. 'You are nothing to me now.'

I slid my wand into my pocket, clasping the sword hilt between two hands.

'You don't deserve a death as kind as this; for what you did to Edward you and your kinf deserve to suffer a million times over. But I do not have as many minutes as I would wish too. I hope you rot in hell, fiend.' 

And I brought the blade down.

As she exploded forth from the net. My first, fleeting thought was 'How …?' but as she crashed into me I caught a glimpse of tattered ropes, gnawed through by powerful wolf teeth. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I should have checked! I should have!

I crashed to the ground, a sense of déjà vu settling upon me, even as the she-wolf spoke.

'Haven't you ever read the stories little flower? Never gloat; it gives the bad guys time to recover.'

Her jaws snapped open, and with a snarl, she bit into my shoulder, teeth ripping through my clothes into my flesh. I screamed, snapping out of the daze that had over taken me, struggling, fighting, clawing, but the fangs still held. I could feel each individual teeth sunk into my shoulder, spikes of pain that continued to worsen. Blood was running from the wound, joining the blood from my head and and head, swirling together on the ground. The world seemed to grow a little shinier, the wolf that crouched over me became lighter, and I wondered what would happen if I closed my eyes. Perhaps I would wake, discover that all of this had been a bad dream?

Yes, that's what would happen. I just needed to close, to close … to close my eyes.

Above me, I vaguely hear a yell and saw a flash of green light. My body seemed to grow lighter, even as my eyelids started to sink. Suddenly, there was someone before me, a dark shape swimming into my vision. I touched my cheek, speaking in a language i couldn't understand. What was it saying? I had to know.

I concentrated harder, feeling my brow furrow.

'Rose.'

That's what it sounded like. Rose … that was my name, wasn't it?

The sounds came again. 'Rose, Rose, don't close your eyes. Stay with me Rose. Please. Please don't go to sleep.'

I felt as though I almost recognised the voice, but the words that it was saying didn't seem right. For some reason, that one word, 'please'; it sounded wrong, unfamiliar in this mouth. Who was it?

I opened my eyes slowly, concentrating on the shape, bringing it back into focus. It was a face, a boy's face, a face I knew. The eyes gazing down at me seemed unnecessarily concerned, the jaw, tense.

I managed to force a word from my lips, just one.

His name.

'D – Draco …'

**A/N**

**Woo! I hope the slight wait is made up for by this longer chapter, and almost-appearance of a canon character! How does Rose know Draco? Well, just wait and see! **

**Until next time, dear readers.**


End file.
